I write a blog exclusively about myself. I have two full-sized mirrors in my 150-square-foot bedroom. I started every sentence in this paragraph with the word “I.”

In the words of Jack Donaghy, “The song ‘You’re So Vain’ was, in fact, written – by me.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was a textbook narcissist.

Fortunately, I know that’s not actually the case, as anyone spending a super lame afternoon with me and my self-deprecating self could easily confirm. But in an effort to prove that I’m not as self-absorbed as publicly documenting every step of my four-month marathon training would suggest, I’m going to use this space today to – for once – sing the praises of someone other than myself.

Enter my friend Davy, stage left.

Davy is 45-feet tall and about to destroy Manhattan.

A talented musician with solid comedic timing and a propensity to write rhymes about zoo animals, Davy has just released his second album of children’s songs and/or made Christmas shopping for your pre-school aged cousins a cinch. And when I say pre-school aged cousins, I clearly mean 26-year-old cousins, because I listen to this album on a daily basis.

A lot of the songs are quality, but this one is obviously the best, and not just because I join in for the chorus. (Actually, that’s exactly why.) Here’s hoping these embedded clips don’t look like a garbled mess.

Seriously, go on iTunes and download this thing. It’s the greatest. But don’t just take my word for it.

Don’t worry, folks. Tomorrow, we’ll return to our regularly sheduled programming of me writing exclusively about myself. And about the two ShakeShack visits I made in as many days this week, including a pre-noon breakfast burger on the 4th of July. And about my imminent heart palpitations, no doubt.